


a month of honey

by tempand



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Boys In Love, But make it Muggle~, Camping, Drabble Collection, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Established Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Established Relationship, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, It's a honeymoon trip!, M/M, Microfic, Post-Hogwarts, Slice of Life, because they're married - Freeform, like per prompt but i shoved it all together so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:07:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28751913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tempand/pseuds/tempand
Summary: “Technically,” Harry presses his shoulder harder against Draco’s, “that’s your name too.”—Newlywed Draco and Harry go camping! Like the muggles do!
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18
Collections: Drarry Microfics, November 2020





	a month of honey

**Author's Note:**

> a honeymoon collection formed from drarrymicrofic's prompts  
> *from nov. 2020
> 
> each entry was written with the 50 word limit in mind (and wow fuck that was so hard, it was great!!)
> 
> begin (1)  
> carefree (2)  
> spark (3)  
> denial (4)  
> light (5)  
> mirror (6)  
> luminos (7)  
> shadow (8)  
> obscure (9)  
> cloudy (10)

  
— 1 —

The idea of a cross-country roadtrip as their honeymoon begins as a joke—a suggestion from Rose (who’s never fully grasped her own parents aversion to camping). 

“You can sleep under the stars Uncle Harry,” her _r_ ’s, too round, come soft and full as _w_ ’s, “it’s romantic.” 

Draco had (surprisingly) agreed. 

— 2 —

It’s, bizarrely, the most carefree Harry’s ever seen Draco.

He’s perched against their little rental Peugeot; check-list in hand. There’s no potion in his hair, and he’s nicked a pair of Harry’s joggers—which might have once been Dean’s, or Ron’s? 

It’s ridiculously attractive. 

“S’everything, I– Potter, are you listening?”

“—Er.”

— 3 —

Kindling cracks—sparks spring from the fire; flecks of burnt orange and red drift into the night sky. 

Beside him, Draco startles. Harry hides his amusement in the collar of his jumper. 

“Shut it, Potter,” but it lacks heat. 

“Technically,” Harry presses his shoulder harder against Draco’s, “that’s your name too.” 

— 4 —

“Did you eat the last—”

“No.” 

The denial falls too quick from Harry’s lips. 

Draco’s eyes have become impossibly sharp. Harry can see his brain working, weighing the pros and cons of pushing the issue.

“I want _Muc-Dough-nould’s_ for dinner.” 

Harry snorts before smacking a kiss against Draco’s palm, “Sure.”

— 5 —

His eyes are closed, but Draco’s not asleep—his breaths too controlled for rest. 

The _lumos_ Harry cast while they were washing up has dimmed, but the soft glow has left shadows dancing across Draco’s face. Harry traces them lightly with the pads of his fingers. 

Draco turns into the touch.

— 6 —

Harry adjusts the rear view mirror as he eases the Peugeot away from the shoreline. (Draco no longer has driving privileges when reversing is called for.) 

In the passenger seat, Draco is sand-covered and quietly fuming. There’s the faintest hint of pink burned across his cheeks. 

“..seagulls are heinous beasts.” 

— 7 —

Draco thrusts the lightbulb into Harry’s face; Harry absolutely does not flinch. 

“Glow worms.”

“What.”

A sharp sniff, “We’re muggle camping. Light.” Draco has the audacity to speak as if Harry’s the one overreacting, like lightbulbs of spindly luminous creatures are utterly ordinary. 

“Have those been— I _brought_ a torch!” 

— 8 —

“There’s a spell for this.” 

“Oi, gimme a moment, yeah?”

Harry settles the light so that it shines evenly, “Okay, so now—” Taking Draco’s hand within his own, Harry arranges their fingers. On the wall of their tent, a shadow takes flight. “ _Ta-dah!_ It’s a bird!” 

“Are you twelve?” 

“Caw.”

— 9 —

They’re meant to be heading to a National Park off the southern coast—instead, they’ve stopped the Peugeot along the side of the motorway in an obscure little farming town, just west of Bath. 

“Draco, we can—”

“No.”

“It’s only a few—”

“No.”

“But your mum would really—”

“Harry.”

“Right, okay.”

— 10 —

It falls out as they’re unloading the Peugeot: a small potions bottle, dark with cloudy water. 

Draco blushes as he quickly slips it away.

-

Later, home and in bed, Draco explains. 

“Water,” He says as he nudges further into Harry’s neck, breath warm, “from the lake near our first campsite.” 

  
🏕 fin.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for taking the time to read :)


End file.
